That Time Steve Nash Stuck His Hand Up My Skirt...

Ok, so it hasn't been all seven plagues in the life of Madge.  I have had a few laughs, smiles, and adventures in my life.  Here's an interesting story, yet maybe something to be gleaned from it as well...

I lived in Denver from 2000 to 2006.  I became a divorcee' in 2001.  I had a few crazy years after my divorce.  Eventually I found a few other divorced Moms in my squeaky clean suburb that actually weren't Stepford Wives and wanted to have a little fun.  Hey, I was in my mid 30s, I wasn't dead yet.

In 2005 the NBA All-Star Game came to Denver.  Now, I could give a rat's ass about pro basketball (except if maybe the Knicks were in the finals... which is like finding a unicorn) but it was probably a once in a lifetime chance to take in the spectacle.  I decided to go downtown, I think it was maybe the night before the game, no it couldn't have been... I don't know it was one night of the All-Star weekend where they had activities going on.  Several bars had special events, promising possible appearances of 2nd rate players, and there was one big event called the NBA Experience somewhere.  We just wanted to see what was going on.

I had a friend, oh let's call her "Tanya".  Now Tanya was a total MILF in her early 30s from my burb who made jaws drop when she walked in a room and she knew it.  She nipped and tucked her body into a lovely va va voom silhouette.  She was blonde and blue eyed and just oozed sexiness.  She was very Marilyn-esque.  "Tanya" dragged me along to some club that was supposed to be hot that night.  Again, we weren't dead but we were in our 30s and downtown was filled with hot 20 somethings looking for an NBA player to rope into Baby-Daddy land.  I reluctantly went in...

It was crowded and annoying.  Some young drunk idiots were hitting on us, I was not interested in babysitting that night.  Tanya was on the prowl.  But she was a little bored with the youngins, so she gets on her bat phone.  She thinks there is better action at this NBA Experience place.  We haul our behinds over there via 16th St. tram.  Crickets.  The place was dead.

Tanya is back on the phone.  We get back on the tram.  We go to some other bar.  She keeps holding my hand to walk me through the crowd, apparently this is something hot chicks do to tease the gentleman that they might be up for a threesome.  I'm like damnit, quit grabbing my hand, you're not my Mother and I'm just not up for hot girl on girl action!  Geez!  That place was just kind of average, so Tanya's back on the phone.   If you haven't noticed, she has a short attention span.   Suddenly she tells me we're going to a bar I know well... but it's like this quiet wine bar/restaurant.  I think to myself, "What the hell could be happening there?"  Well, I don't care, I'm glad to get a way from all the nightclub douchiness.

We get to the place, greeted outside by some guy that had apparently been on the other end of the phone with her all night, and the place is empty.  It appears closed.  However the dude assures us he is friends with the owner and he told us to come.  Finally the owner does come to the door, greets the dude with hugs and tells us to come on back.  I was thinking I just wanted to go home at that point.  But we walk into the back room and there is a small (very small, about 10 people) party going on.  Glasses of wine and scotch and cigars being smoked.  We say hello, and the people barely gave us a nod.  Then as I'm sitting there I realized who two of the men were.  Thanks to my ex-husband's incessant sports watching, I realize the two men were Steve Nash and Dirk Nowitzki, teammates from the Dallas Mavericks, however Steve had just gone back to the Phoenix Suns at the time.  I tried to keep my jaw from dropping.  Tanya had no clue, I think the dude knew but I was oblivious to him anyway.

I didn't want to seem annoying and star struck, so I was polite, made small talk when possible.  Steve is from Canada, so we chatted about me growing up near the border.  Steve was a little bit of a cranky drunk though, and I think he was waiting for the "talent" to arrive.  Dirk was just an out and out surly drunk.  He was sitting there yelling obscenities and throwing crap, and laughing occassionally.  In my head I so wanted to ask him to say "I must break you", but I figured he'd pick me up and throw me if I did. 

Some Canadian old boys of Steve's finally showed up and they all piled on each other.  It was a homie love fest.  And with them arrived the "talent".  A couple of 20 somethings in short plaid school girl skirts and high heels.  I think they were off-duty strippers.  They weren't there to perform neccessarily, but they were there to look at and flirt.  Mind you, I was wearing a short skirt and heels myself, but these chicks looked ya' know, ready for action.

It was time for the soccer moms to go.  I knew we were just extra baggage, so I summoned Tanya to go.  But we had to trek somewhere else in Denver to find our car.  Steve and another guy said they were getting in their limo to go wherever and they would give us a ride to our car.  Hey, ok we'll take it.  We all pile in the limo, it was crowded, the trollops were sitting on the guy's laps.  We get to our destination and all the men were very polite and said nice to meet you and... Steve is still seated with a girl on his lap and goes to help me out, I think, and all the sudden as I step out, his hand goes up my inner thigh!

Then the door quickly closed and they were off.  I was a little shell shocked for a minute.  Was it an accident?  Or did I just get groped by an NBA All-Star?  I was shocked, but I laughed.  I think it was an accident or just an old boy being an old boy.  A good number of other bottom feeder women would have tried to make that a money making situation.  Now if perhaps he had palmed my privates while there, I probably would have called the police.  But a harmless leg touch, however close it was to my no fly zone... I couldn't drag some harmless drunk dude through the mud with a dumb lawsuit where I was just trying to make a buck. 

Maybe that's why I'm always broke, I'm not an opportunist.  Should I be?  Some people think I'm bitter, but I'm really not.  I prefer the term curmudgeonly, but I'm not vindictive.  I just don't have it in me to create senseless hurt for others.  Hopefully karma pays me back with a column or book contract or at least a lottery win! :)